Iraq River

Iraq, you carry old rivers under a wide, warm sky, Two silver lines where the flat lands lie. Morning light on a quiet bend, And the road feels open without an end. Iraq river slow and strong, Water keeps moving, keeps me along. Reed beds sway where the breezes pass, Like the earth is breathing through living grass. Tigris turning through open air, Euphrates running steady there. Marshland mirror soft and wide, Sun on the water like a gentle guide. Iraq river slow and strong, Water keeps moving, keeps me along. Reed beds sway where the breezes pass, Like the earth is breathing through living grass. Up north, mountains cut cool and clean, Green slopes rising in quiet sheen. Then dusk comes down in a copper hue, And the river keeps the light in view. Iraq river slow and strong, Every mile feels like it won’t go wrong. From marsh to hill to desert air, There’s peaceful space everywhere